A different take on journey

Originally written in 2012, during Instagram’s explosive growth and Facebook’s march toward one billion users

Riding through the sunlit roads of Ladakh in 2012

There’s something magical about choosing two wheels over four that goes far beyond simple transportation – it’s about choosing freedom over confinement, adventure over routine. I love riding a motorbike more than driving a car. When you experience the world from inside a car, it’s like watching life unfold through a television screen – you’re always looking through that windshield frame, experiencing everything secondhand. You’re an observer, not quite part of the whole experience. But on a motorbike? You become one with the wind. You feel the road beneath your wheels, the vibration of the engine connecting you to every mile. Most importantly, that frame that was blocking your vision simply disappears.

The Rush vs. The Ride

Watch the roads and you’ll notice two distinct tribes. There are the drivers – often in a hurry, perpetually stuck in traffic. These are the people heading to the same destination every single day, constantly stressed about arriving early and finding the shortest route. The irony? In their desperate attempt to express their individuality, they all end up looking exactly the same. They all appear lost, even though they’re the ones who supposedly know exactly where they’re going. Perhaps it’s the very familiarity with their destination that breeds this boredom.

Then there are the riders – those who embrace the journey itself. They chase the wind that flows in the opposite direction, not to challenge it but to feel it thoroughly. They find those narrow gaps between vehicles ahead, their motorbikes swooping through spaces that cars cannot reach or simply don’t dare to explore. They take the small lanes, the forgotten paths, the routes less traveled. They feel the pulse of their engine, the lean into every curve, the freedom that only comes with two wheels and an open road. Being a rider isn’t just transportation; it’s pure liberation.

The Social Media Planning Paradox

This was 2012, remember – Facebook had just reached one billion monthly active users in October and was cementing its position as the undisputed king of social media. Meanwhile, Instagram had grown to around 50 million users by spring when Facebook acquired it, and by year’s end had reached 80 million users in July. The concept of curating your life for social consumption was rapidly taking hold.

Even then, I noticed something troubling: people were spending more time planning their itineraries down to the minutest detail than actually traveling. They wanted to know everything about their destination before arriving. Where to stay, what to eat (preferably something that reminded them of home), what to shop for, and most importantly – the best spots to capture that perfect photo for their Facebook timeline or new Instagram feed.

Sound familiar? What started as Facebook photo albums and Instagram’s early square photos has now exploded into Stories, Reels, TikTok videos, and endless social media documentation. The planning obsession was just beginning but would only intensify.

They don’t want to explore, experience, or evolve. They want to document.

The Evolution of a Road Philosophy

Years have passed since I first wrote these thoughts, and life has a way of shifting gears on us. Age and family responsibilities have gradually moved me toward the practical comfort of four wheels for most of our journeys. The daily commute, family trips, and grocery runs now happen from behind a windshield rather than handlebars.

But every once in a while, when the road calls and the weather’s just right, I still fire up that motorbike. I slip on the helmet, feel that familiar rumble beneath me, and hit the open road – chasing that wind I wrote about all those years ago. Those rides remind me why the journey will always matter more than the destination.

Some philosophies are too important to leave parked in the garage.

Time vs. Good Time

Here’s the thing that struck me most: people often say they want to spend “good time,” but they’re usually more focused on the TIME than the GOOD. They’re watching the clock instead of watching the sunset. They’re counting hours instead of collecting moments.

Understanding and trusting your compass – both literal and metaphorical – helps you navigate the journey to unknown destinations better than any detailed itinerary ever could. Don’t expect maps and road signs to tell you the complete story of where you’re headed. Sometimes the best destinations aren’t even marked.

The Invitation

So here’s my challenge to you, whether you’re reading this years after I first wrote it or stumbling upon it for the first time:

Go explore. Go experience. And most importantly – go enjoy.

Take the scenic route, whether you’re on two wheels or four. Feel the wind, even if it’s through an open car window. Find those gaps that others miss, those moments that can’t be planned or scheduled. Let the journey matter more than the arrival.

Life may change our vehicles, but it doesn’t have to change our approach to the road ahead.

Whether you’re on two wheels, four wheels, or even on foot, remember that some of life’s best moments happen in the spaces between where you’ve been and where you’re going. The vehicle may change, but the spirit of adventure doesn’t have to.

Fire up whatever engine moves you, feel the connection to the road beneath you, and let your journey be your guide.

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What started as a simple preference for motorbikes over cars became a philosophy about how we experience life itself. This approach has now become our standard plan for every trip we take – and all those who have heard about our crazy road trips know exactly what that means. In our rush to document and plan every moment, are we missing the actual living of it?